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Chapter 23.

"Me too," I murmured into his shirt.

I felt him press his lips to the top of my head, before he drew back. "I want you to tell me all about it, but first I need some food. I feel weak."

With a laugh, I grabbed his large hand and pulled him into the kitchen. "Please, have a seat."

"Oh, wine!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Are we celebrating something? You know it's only Tuesday."

"Not really. This day has been stressful and I wanted to wind down," I shrugged as I portioned the food on plates.

"I hear you," Harry said, pouring some wine for himself.

"What, had a rough day, too?" I walked over and placed a plate in front of him and I swear he looked like a kid on Christmas.

"This looks brilliant! When did you learn to cook?" he grinned and stuffed a forkful in his mouth.

I giggled and sat down opposite him. "I had to when I got the house. I realised pretty quickly that I couldn't survive on pizza and hamburgers."

"Remember that one time when you wanted to be on MasterChef Junior so bad, you decided to make a two course meal for me and your parents?" Harry said and tried to hold back his smile.

"Yeah, unfortunately, I do," I said with a pout, still not over that incident. I'd thought the fried peas with peanut butter and a side of chips followed by melted ice cream sprinkled with curry, would convince everyone I was some culinary genius.

"It was bloody awful," he laughed and shoved another load of spaghetti in.

"Let's not talk about that. I hope this tastes better."

"So, want to walk me through your horrible day?" He smiled softly and put his fork down, showing me I had his full attention.

It was little things like this that made me adore Harry. The way he looked at you when you spoke, like there wasn't anything else around other than you and the words coming out of your mouth. Like it was the most important thing for him to hear right then and there.

After our first unpleasant encounter outside HES, when he had been so rude to me, I'd thought I lost him. Lost all of his charming sides, the politeness and his respectful manners. But the more time I spent with him, the more he let his true colours show. And I loved every minute of it.

I told him about Adam and the conversation that took place between us. Harry kept his hands clenched into fist the whole time and actually growled when I mentioned that Adam had said he liked Heather. But his lips twitched when I shamefully admitted I'd wished for him to get an STD.

"Um, well, I should probably also tell you that Cole decided to step by for a visit," I said tentatively, fiddling with the napkin in my lap.

Harry grunted and chugged down half of the wine in his glass. "Bastard," he muttered. "What did he want?"

"He told me some bullshit story, tried to make me doubt you. He clearly doesn't want us to be together. Do you know why?" I said.

"I honestly don't," he mumbled and sighed despondently. "What did he tell you?"

I winced, not wanting to share it with him. "It was nothing, really. Just nonsense."

"Tell me," Harry demanded.

"He said you helped him. Like the reverse version of what you told me. That you had been nice to him at first, but then not so much. And that you'd done something to Heather that almost got you thrown in jail." My voice came out a whisper and I didn't dare look at him.

He cursed. "Ella, you know he's lying, right? That's exactly what happened, but it was all him. He was the one hurting me. He was the one who almost got arrested. I can't believe he's trying to pin this on me."

Shaking his head, he stared down on his plate, pushing the food around. I swallowed harshly and studied his face. I knew he was telling the truth. Of course I would trust him over Cole any day of the week.

"I know, Harry. But he creeps me out. I want him gone," I whispered. I hated the feeling of being watched, knowing that Cole knew where I worked and could come by anytime he wanted.

"I'll see if I can talk to him. It needs to stop. I can't have you being scared of going to work." Harry reached forward and put his hand over mine in a reassuring motion.

"Thank you," I said with a smile and picked up my fork again.

We continued to eat in silence for a while and several times I caught him staring at me. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and started to laugh.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

To my utter surprise, Harry blushed. Not like I usually did, full on tomato, but just enough pink colour covering his cheekbones for me to notice.

"Sorry, I just can't help myself. You are so beautiful," he mumbled.

His words hit someplace deep inside me and he probably had no idea how much they meant.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to hear you say things like that," I softly smiled.

Gripping the bottle of wine, he refilled our glasses and chuckled. "You better get used to it, because I plan to do it a lot."